“It doesn’t seem quite right,” I argued. And he laughed a little wistfully.
“What difference does it make, so long as we’re happy?” he inquired. And I tried to reprove him with a look, but I don’t think it quite carried in the misty starlight.
“I can’t say,” I told him, “that I approve of your reasoning.”
“That’s just the point,” he said with a slightly more reckless note in his laughter. “It doesn’t pretend to be reasoning. It’s more like that abandoning of all reasoning which brings us our few earthly glories.”
“Cogito, ergo sum,” I announced, remembering my Descartes.
“Well, I’m going to keep on just the same,” protested Peter.
“Keep on at what?” I asked.
“At thinking you’re adorable,” was his reply.
“Well, the caterpillars have been known to stop the train, but you must remember that it’s rather hard on the caterpillars,” I proclaimed as we swung off the trail and headed in for Alabama Ranch.